


I'm Not a Child!

by 1478963255



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Feels, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, One-Sided Relationship, Oral Sex, Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sad with a Happy Ending, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-05 02:37:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20481473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1478963255/pseuds/1478963255
Summary: Lysithea despserately hopes that one day she and her professor Byleth can be more than just a teacher and a student. She is afraid that he sees her as nothing more than a child and student.There is an aching in Byleth's chest and convinced that Lysithea has cast a spell on him, he follows her to her room to try and have the spell lifted.F/M relationship. Teacher-student, first-time, angsty, fluffy, smutty emotional stuff. Tagged as underage because Lysithea is 15. Anonymous request.





	1. Prohibited Love

“I’m happy that you accepted my request for tea, Lysithea,” Byleth said.

Lysithea returned the smile, though it was tight and reserved. Her pink eyes were cast down at the table seemingly eyeing up the intricate patterns of the lace tablecloth. He didn’t think her to be so interested in embroidery.

“Thank you… professor,” she said quietly, though she still didn’t look up. Byleth’s steady blue eyes watched her; she was tense and unusually so, twisting and twirling her own fingers over themselves anxiously, pulling at the small wicks of skin around her nails where she must have been biting them. He gestured to the teapot in the centre of the table.

“I believe I have your favourite tea… the honeyed-fruit blend,” Byleth attempted to smile. Lysithea’s bright pink eyes flashed with interest though she still avoided her professor’s gaze.

“Yes… that is my favourite. Thank you,” she said hesitantly once more.

Byleth was confused. For the last few days, Lysithea had been behaving strangely, sitting towards the back of the class instead of at the front where she usually sat, avoiding him whenever they bumped into one another in the library, and making up any excuse under the sun so that she simply didn’t have to be in his presence. He was confused; was his friendliness unwanted? Was his smile that bad? In truth, he had not practiced it in the mirror enough.

Byleth took the teapot and poured her a cup of tea first and then allowed the piping honey-rose liquid to pool into his own dainty teacup. He set the teapot back down on the table, gesturing to the three-tier tower of cakes and sweets he had procured just for her. There were slices of strawberry mille-feuille; a multi-layered pastry filled with strawberries and cream, decorated with a dusting of sweet sugar. He had seen her staring into the town’s bakery window with bright glistening eyes, mouth practically watering and swore he would buy some for her. Alongside the mille-feuille were round jam tarts, biscuits and other small cakes, topped with icing.

“Please, help yourself,” he said, attempting to sound kind though he realised he sounded as monotonous as ever. Lysithea’s eyes gleamed as they roamed over the selection of cakes at her disposal, tiny fingertips tentatively reaching for them. She stopped and then withdrew her hand.

“Thank you but… I will just have tea for now,” she murmured, reaching for the cup with her small hands.

Her silvery white hair covered her eyes as she tipped her head downwards, trying still to not meet her professor’s gaze and her lips met the rim of the delicate cup. She allowed the hot liquid to roll down her throat as she sipped it, ever aware of Byleth’s hard stare on her face. Stifling her satisfaction, she placed the cup back down on its saucer.

“Did you invite me here for a reason, professor?” Lysithea asked.

Byleth blinked. “Does a professor need a reason to spend time with his students?”

Lysithea frowned slightly. That was not the answer she was expecting. “Do you have anything to discuss with me, is what I mean.”

He regarded her with his blank eyes; something was clearly bothering her and yet, he was too awkward and unsure of how to approach the subject since, clearly, her issue resided with him. He took the warm cup between her hands and simply held it there.

“How is your training going?”

“… fine.”

“… that is good to hear.”

The tension between them was palpable and Byleth swallowed, feeling frustrated, though it didn’t show on his face. He stared at his own cold reflection in the boiling tea and tried to think of what else to say. It was quiet in the gardens and there was barely a breeze passing by; the gazebo roof was high and shielded the pair from the sun. Vines twirled up the marble pillars sprouting small pink buds. Byleth regarded them and wondered what kind of flowers they were.

“Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?” Lysithea asked, having taken another sip of her tea and setting her cup back down.

Byleth paused and then stared straight at her. Lysithea bristled, finally meeting the penetrative empty gaze of her professor’s blue eyes.

“Is there anything bothering you, Lysithea?”

Her cheeks turned pink. She shook her head vigorously. “No, of course not!”

Byleth tilted his head to the side, finally bringing the cup to his pale lips. “Are you quite sure?”

“Y-Yes! I am just… tired from training, that is all,” she stumbled out. She grabbed for a small cake and tore the paper wrapping off it with slightly shaking fingers, shoving a way-too-large piece into her mouth. She hoped, perhaps, to silence herself with sweets. Byleth watched her, bewildered by her behaviour; despite her age as one of the youngest at the academy, Lysithea often appeared as one of the most mature and well-behaved students. Clearly, something was perturbing her.

“I do not believe you are being truthful with me…” Byleth pondered, setting his cup down. He leaned his arms -but not his elbows- on the table and interlaced his fingers in front of himself, lips tight. “However, if you insist, then I will not pry further.”

Silence fell. “Professor… how do you see me?”

Byleth blinked. “With my eyes, of course.”

Lysithea’s lower lip stuck out in a pout and she inhaled angrily, nostrils flared, and she almost thudded her fists against the table. “Th-That is not what I meant!”

“Then I do not understand.”

Lysithea exhaled and leaned back in her chair, eyes downcast and Byleth noted… _sad_. Though almost devoid of all emotion himself, he recognised it in others; the down-turned eyes, the relaxed and slanted-downwards eyebrows, frowning pouting lips and defeated body language. Yes, she most definitely looked sad.

“Do you think I am a child?”

Byleth brought a hand to his chin. Logically, yes, she was still a child, or an incredibly young adult at best. When he was her age, he was already swinging a sword around the battlefield and cutting through enemies as a mercenary alongside his father. However, she was not a mercenary, or even a boy for that matter, and so he couldn’t compare himself to her. He looked at her; she was small, petite and looked incredibly delicate, like a lily’s petal; so mild yet so beautiful. Her wisdom and magical ability were beyond her years, perhaps besting some of the professors at the academy. She had two Crests imbued within her, yet most of her talent came down to hard work and dedication, something that granted her maturity ahead of many of the other students. It was a difficult answer to give.

“I do not believe that to be relevant.”

“Professor!” Lysithea cried out, unhappy with his answer.

“You are a very talented student, one of my best, if I am honest. You pay attention in class, suggest answers that sometimes even I had not considered and above all, you work hard.” His words were measured and precise, and he chose each word carefully. He meant everything he had said but once again, it appeared Lysithea was unhappy, pulling at the hem of her skirt under the table.

“Thank you, but…”

“But? Are you unsatisfied with my answer?” Byleth tilted his head and sipped his tea once more. _Girls. What confusing creatures._

Lysithea shook her head. “No, not at all. You can clearly spot people’s weaknesses and strengths and you help me work on mine. I wasn’t so sure if you would be able to help any of us, let alone me, when you first started because you seemed so… stoic. Even now, I find your face difficult to read.”

Byleth attempted a frown. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I have learned that that is who you are and to attempt to change that would be foolish. Your advice has become invaluable to me and I take it to heart.” Lysithea’s small hands came to clutch at the front of her uniform and she tucked her chin into her chest. Byleth had never seen such a reaction from her before, it was uncharacteristically… _endearing_. “You know that I don’t have much time left… and that is why I push myself so hard with my training. Your tutelage is dear to me and that is why… I find myself spending so much time around you.”

Byleth’s frown deepened, naturally this time. He fingers twitched against the table. “As of late… you have been avoiding me, if I may be frank.”

Lysithea bit her lip and lifted her rosy gaze to her professor, meeting his eyes and doing her best to keep his gaze. “It is because I have begun to feel… unnaturally attached to you.”

“How so?”

Lysithea’s face turned an even darker shade of pink than her cheeks and she averted her gaze to the floor, resting her hands in her lap once more. Byleth had never witnessed such behaviour before and was bewildered by it.

“I asked you if you think of me as a child because… professor, what do I mean to you?”

“You are my student.”

Lysithea let out a groan, frustrated and she rolled her eyes, exasperated. Her professor, as intelligent and focused as he was, could also be incredibly oblivious and dim-witted. She took in a breath and exhaled, staring straight at him, unwavering.

“Do I mean anything else to you?”

Considering her words, Byleth hummed. “I want to protect you by all means necessary. Is that strange of me?”

Lysithea’s breath hitched. “P-Protect me? Why do you wish to protect me?”

“Because you are my student.”

Her eyes cast downwards once more. “And that is all?”

“What more can there be?”

A despondent sigh passed Lysithea’s pink lips. She should have known better; it was foolish to think of her professor in such ways. It was silly of her to allow her heart to get ahead of her brain; she had not stopped to consider the professor’s feelings. She knew he had no heartbeat, but she also began to think that perhaps he possessed no human emotion whatsoever. His words were always cool, monotonous and without feeling, no matter what he spoke about; the only time a flicker of emotion graced his face was when he was on the battlefield. Lysithea wished those blazing eyes would fall upon her someday and that she would not be left gazing into a soulless shell as she did at that moment, under the gazebo in the gardens. Her hands balled into tight white fists clutching at the hem of her dress. It was naïve of her to think that a professor and student could even have such a relationship.

“You’re right… ‘what more can there be’,” she echoed. Lysithea stood and bowed before her professor. “Thank you for the tea.”

Quickly and without another word, she left, her teacup still half-full. Byleth watched the waves of her silver hair flow as she walked quickly and even though she was sure she had turned the corner completely before beginning, he saw her break off into a run. He sat at the tea table and thought hard, mind whirring and cogs turning.

She had behaved unlike herself; usually, she was very calm and often flippant with others for calling her a child or treating her like one. But with the professor, she pleaded for him not to see her the same as others did, practically begging with wide eyes. He sipped the last of his tea alone and stared at the mille-feuille; _what a waste. She hadn’t touched them._ His non-existent heart sank.

What was that strange feeling just now? He placed a hand over his own chest and wondered if he had been wounded during the last battle and missed it. The ache he felt was inside his chest and wasn’t just skin deep. He thought about Lysithea again, and that saddened, heartbroken expression on her face and his chest ached again. Had she cast some magic on him?

Byleth stood from the table and took a lace doily in hand. He wrapped a mille-feuille up and tied it with a bow and sought out Lysithea. He thought to check her room first. As he left the gardens, he stopped and plucked a flower; a lily. Its white petals curled outwards and the insides were a bright golden colour, painted with pollen. The flower reminded him of her; the petals as pure as her hair. He took it with him, coming to her room. He knocked on her door three times.

“Go away!” a hysterical voice cried from within.

Byleth frowned. She was upset? He knocked three more times. “It’s me, Lysithea.”

“Professor… please, just g-go away!” she shouted again. Through the wood, he could hear her gentle sobs; his chest ached again. Truly, she must have cast a spell on him to make him hurt like this. He reached for the door handle and pulled on it, creaking the door open. Lysithea had thrown herself onto her bed and was sobbing into her pillow, eyes red and puffy, lips swollen and red too. Byleth stood by the door, hand still on the handle, unsure of what to do.

“P-Professor…” Lysithea sobbed. Seemingly having no control over his own body, Byleth stepped into Lysithea’s small room. It matched his in much the same way; approximately the same dimensions, with a golden rug and white bedsheets atop the bed. She had books, a vase of flowers he had given her for her birthday and a basket full of treats she often tucked into. He set the napkin and flower down on her bedside table and stared down at her.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing!” Lysithea immediately retorted, burying her face back into her pillow, sniffling and hiccupping. Byleth shook his head.

“I do not think you are being truthful.”

“Professor… i-it’s you!”

“Me?”

Lysithea half-groaned, half-screamed into her pillow, legs flailing and kicking against the bed in frustration. She squeezed the pillow into her face and then went limp, rolling onto her back and holding the pillow to her to try and hide her tears. “Yes! It’s your fault I’m upset!”

“It is?”

“Gods, Professor, sometimes you are so… s-so… _stupid!_” she shouted. Byleth was taken aback; he had never been called stupid in his entire life, and did not think he ever would, let alone by one of his students. He regarded her with his empty eyes and Lysithea brought the pillow up to hide her face entirely. Her knees tucked up and curled into her chest, trying to make herself seem as small as possible. Byleth took a seat at the edge of her bed and tried to ease the pillow down from her face.

“How am I stupid?”

“You’re oblivious! How can someone as intelligent and shrewd as you be so blind!” Lysithea was frowning hard behind the pillow that covered the lower half of her face, pink eyes glaring up at the professor. He still did not understand.

“Please tell me what is wrong, Lysithea.”

The white-haired girl huffed and sat upright, settling the pillow into her lap. She tried to steady her breathing and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her uniform. Her voice was quiet and shy when she finally spoke.

“I asked you if you thought I was a child because I didn’t want you to see me that way. I asked you what I meant to you because I… selfishly, I want to be more than that.” A breathy laugh escaped her swollen tear-stained lips. “I now know that it is, ironically, very childish of me to think that I could be anything more than your student. We are comrades in arms too, yes, I suppose but… I wanted to be more than that.”  
“More? Lysithea, we are friends, if that is what you wanted to hear.”

She laughed again and shook her head. “Professor, please don’t try to humour me… I’m not a child, even if you think I am and are too afraid to say it, too afraid to hurt my feelings. I am glad we are friends. Thank you.”

“… you are still unhappy,” Byleth noted, watching the way Lysithea stared morosely at her own hands resting atop her pillow in her lap.

“Yes. But I don’t want to hear things from you simply to make me happy. That would be cruel.”

Byleth nodded, finally in understanding. He let his eyes run over her; strangely, a part of him wanted to bring her body close to his and he wanted to hold her, to reassure her and comfort her. Those feelings were new to him; though they were not unpleasant. Rather, the more he thought about her small body curling into his lap and into his embrace, the more his throat tightened, and he felt a heat rising through his body, coming to rest in his face.

“May I ask you something?” he said. 

“Of course.”

“Have you cast a spell on me?”

Lysithea head shot up and she quirked an eyebrow at her professor. She rubbed her red-rimmed eyes with the back of her wrist again and shook her head. “Of course not. Why would I?”

Byleth scowled and turned his gaze to his own hands, clenching and unclenching them in his own lap, trying to make sense of these newfound feelings. “I have an aching in my chest whenever I think of you.”

Lysithea’s breath stuttered and her heart fluttered. She tried to put an angry expression on her face, eyebrow twitching. “Professor, I just said… please don’t say things just to make me happy.”

“I am not. I am genuinely curious if you have cast a spell on me. I have never felt this aching in my chest before and it only happens when I think of you so I must conclude that you have done something to me.”

Scarlet flared across Lysithea’s cheeks and she clutched her face in her hands, gasping sharply. Her heart was thundering erratically in her chest though she was mentally trying to quieten the hopeful thoughts racing through her mind. “This a-aching you get… what is it like?”

Byleth’s fingers twitched and he closed his eyes, trying to focus on the feeling. He could not remember what it was like until he pictured Lysithea’s saddened expression and watery eyes. “It is like… a pain, where my heart is. In truth, I do not know if I even have a heart, or if it is just still, unmoving. But I think… if I were to have a heart, it would beat for you.”

Lysithea let a whimper escape her throat, hands coming over her mouth as she welled up with hot tears. Byleth looked over his shoulder and saw her saddened expression again. He frowned to himself. “I have upset you again.”

“Professor… these are happy tears,” she laughed, wiping her cheeks.

“Happy tears? Such a thing exists?”

Lysithea giggled again and shifted on the bed so that she sat beside her professor. Tentatively, she took his hand in hers and held it. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do but the aching in his chest had subsided so he continued to hold her hand, thinking that for as long as he held her, the aching would stop.

“I don’t think you realise just how powerful those words are to a girl, professor,” Lysithea laughed. A small smile graced the usually stoic professor’s face and he shook his head.

“Perhaps not. But they make you happy?”

“Yes, very much so,” she breathed. She leaned her head of white hair against her professor’s night-black armour, closing her eyes when she hit his arm. He sat awkwardly for a moment and then acted impulsively, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her into him more. She was warm, and small and he realised that he wanted to protect her more than anything in the world.

Although the aching in his chest had stopped, a new sensation had begun to wash over him, one he was slightly familiar with. A heat, collecting in his face, manifesting itself as a lump in his throat; _nervousness._ He sometimes felt this way when speaking to a beautiful woman or a handsome man, or even before a battle. The heat was burning in his face, starting to make him uncomfortable.

“Professor, your face is red,” Lysithea noted, leaning back from her tutor’s arm and almost laughing at his expression. He touched a hand to his own face and could feel how hot his own cheeks were.

“Yes, I think I am nervous,” he admitted unabashedly, unaware of how strange it was to admit such a thing. Lysithea blinked up at him.

“Nervous? About what?”

“I am not so sure myself.” Byleth hesitated and then took in a breath. “I want to be… even nearer to you, if that is possible.”

Lysithea gasped. There was no possible way that he felt that way about her; a professor and student engaging in such offensive behaviour would surely lead to being excommunicated from Garreg Mach. And yet, Lysithea’s brain was already racing at a million images per second, imagining the feel of her professor’s body against hers, his hands in her hair, his smell mixed with her own… she shook her head.

“Professor, do you know… what a kiss is?” she asked, suddenly nervous too. Byleth paused to think and then nodded.

“Yes, I think so. It is when lips touch, correct?”

Lysithea flushed at the words, nodding. Her professor really was just a shell of a person having never felt human emotion before. Her heart and chest swelled knowing that, for the first time in his life, she was making him more nervous than he had ever been before. Lysithea donned a smile as confident as she could possibly muster in such a moment and drew herself up to her full height, which still wasn’t very much.

“Professor… I-I believe that a kiss will relieve some of your nervousness,” she said, voice quaking with false-confidence. She was gazing up at him, somewhat expectantly with bright pink eyes and a matching rosy blush across her cheeks. Byleth held his own chin in his hand as he thought.

“I suppose,” he said quickly before taking a hold of her shoulders and suddenly pressing their lips together. Lysithea jumped and almost leapt out of her skin, wide eyes staring back at her professor’s, who was so close that she could almost feel his eyelashes brushing over her cheeks. He stared at her, oblivious to the fact that one usually closed their eyes during a kiss and so Lysithea pushed back and gasped for breath.

“P-Professor!” she gasped, spluttering.

“Hmm… that did not help my nervousness, rather, it has made it worse,” Byleth frowned. Lysithea touched her lips with the tips of her fingers. He had done it. He had _actually kissed her_. Although it made her heart race and cheeks burn red, it seemingly had no affect on her blue-haired professor, who sat there, calculating and wondering how to cure his nervousness.

“I-I… think another kiss might help,” Lysithea stuttered out. She was surprised by her own boldness, though Byleth was still as oblivious as ever. He nodded but this time, he allowed Lysithea to take charge. She moved onto her knees so that she was slightly taller and rested her shaking, nervous hands on Byleth’s shoulders. She sucked in a breath and inched forward, lips trembling.

Pouting pink lips met Byleth’s still and slightly chapped ones. Lysithea wrenched her eyes shut and held the gentle kiss, and then pressed her lips to his again, tilting her head ever so slightly to the right so that their noses no longer awkwardly bumped into one another. Byleth’s vacant blue eyes stared at Lysithea’s closed eyelids; he had never found his own lips touched by anyone else’s and he thought that, yes, he enjoyed it. Much like battling or eating, he wanted more of the kiss.

He raised his hands and clutched onto her arms, pressing his lips to hers with more force. She squeaked, lips becoming slick as saliva dampened the kiss. Humming, Lysithea dared to dart her tongue across her professor’s bottom lip. He flinched at the move and drew back a centimetre, panting against her mouth. He had never felt such an electrifying sensation before.

Meeting with Lysithea’s half-lidded pink eyes, he saw her lips were slightly parted with the hint of a shy pink tongue resting on the edge of her lower lip. He mimicked her action and Lysithea seemed pleased with that, recapturing his lips and letting their tongues meet.

A jolt of electricity coursed through his body, starting in his tongue and running through him, collecting in his stomach and groin. Byleth let out a quiet groan, uncharacteristically vocal of him, though Lysithea reacted to the noise and made a quite moan of her own. The noise tumbling from her lips caused a hot stirring in Byleth’s groin and he pushed his tongue so that it rolled against hers more, wanting to feel more of her and more of that heat running through his body.

His tongue invaded her mouth, gentle yet inexperienced, hesitant as he ran his tongue over the back of her teeth and over her small tongue. He felt Lysithea shudder in his arms and so, he broke the kiss, finding that his breath was as heavy and laboured as when he swung his sword.

“Professor…” Lysithea gasped. Her body had become uncomfortably warm and her toes were curling and flexing as she tried to control her racing heart. Her fingers were pulling at his armour and coat on his shoulders and she tipped her gaze to her lap, suddenly unsure of what to say. She knew what she _wanted_ to say but found the words stuck in her throat, finding them too embarrassing and suggestive to speak aloud.

“I wish to hold you closer,” Byleth said. His voice was as monotonous as ever, but his face betrayed him; he was blushing pink and his eyebrows were knitted together with an anxious sort of expression that Lysithea had never seen before.

“I… want to do the same to you,” Lysithea quietly admitted. A small smile graced Byleth’s lips; Lysithea’s heart fluttered. She didn’t think that her professor could become any more handsome but that gentle inclination of contentment on his face made her rethink. His gloved hands came up to hold her face and he brushed her white bangs from her eyes with the back of his fingers.

“May we kiss again?” he prompted. Lysithea hid a laugh behind her small hand.

“You don’t need to ask so formally, professor,” she replied, meeting his lips in another kiss. Immediately, their mouths opened, and their tongues met, gently and then with more insistence and Byleth’s grip on Lysithea tightened, reaching to the back of her head to pull her in closer to him. He ached to feel more of her, a feeling of overwhelming possessiveness washing over him as he yearned to keep her against him for as long as possible.

He tangled his fingers into her hair, and she squeaked into the kiss once more, breaking it and gasping for breath. Quickly, Byleth’s head moved to her neck and he started to kiss along her cheek, jaw and throat. Lysithea’s hands reached for her professor’s shoulders and she tried to push him away from her so that she could read his face, but he resisted her feeble attempts, instead following her backwards until she was flat against the bed and he laid atop her.

“A-Ah… Professor!” she gasped. Lysithea’s eyes wrenched shut; her neck was sensitive, unused to the feeling of hot wet lips dancing across it. He continued to run his lips over her skin repeatedly, enjoying the soft noises that tumbled forth from her swollen lips, like the most pleasing melody he had ever heard.

Byleth’s fingers came to the top of her blazer and they expertly tugged the buttons undone, dexterous and adept having handled many weapons throughout his life. For a moment, Lysithea wondered if this was the right thing to do and if she should stop her professor’s hands but the thought of those broad strong palms across her body caused her to keep her hesitations to herself.

A strong growl came from Byleth’s throat when he pulled her collar from her neck and he attacked her throat with his lips hungrily. Her fingers flew to his turquoise hair and she pulled though he kept his face buried against her sweet-smelling skin. _How could another person smell so addictive?_ Like sugar, flowers and everything sweet he could possibly imagine.

She felt as fragile as butterfly wings and he wanted to hold her as tightly as he possibly could to his body, but he was afraid that if he were to squeeze any tighter, she would fracture in his hands. He planted a hand on either side of her head against the bed and leaned back from her neck to gaze at her.

His student was flushed scarlet beneath him, hair in total disarray and rosy-pink eyes half-lidded but glistening. Her blazer was undone, exposing slightly red kiss-abused skin. Byleth wasn’t quite sure what to make of her expression.

“I wish to touch you, Lysithea,” he said bluntly. Lysithea’s hands came up to cover her face and she let out a small whimper; _what those words did to her._ Her thighs rubbed against one another uncomfortably and she withdrew her hands from her eyes, still covering the rest of her face.

“You can t-touch me wherever you want, professor,” she stuttered out. Without a moment’s hesitation, Byleth’s hands were upon her, tugging her blazer open and revealing the delicate white lace of her brasserie. They were like two small triangles, containing what little flesh there was within but through the transparent lace, he could see the rosy bud of her nipples. With eager fingers, he pushed the fabric up.

Her small breasts popped out and Lysithea’s breath hitched in her throat. Her arms flew across her chest as she sought to cover herself. Byleth grabbed one of her wrists and tilted his head quizzically.

“You said I could touch you.”

“Y-Yes, but, w-well… my b-b-breasts… they aren’t…”

“Aren’t what?”

_Curse this professor and his obliviousness._ “They aren’t that b-big!”

Byleth frowned. “Do you wish they were?”

Lysithea sighed dejectedly and allowed Byleth to move her arms from her small breasts and she gazed down at her own body. Her breasts filled her own small hands comfortably but imagining them in her professor’s broad palms caused her to flush with embarrassment. He probably fantasized about Dorothea or Manuela’s bountiful bosom’s in his hands instead.

“I… It is because of my chest size that I feel like a child.”

Byleth gazed at her. She looked sad again, with a disappointed look on her face; he didn’t quite understand why she wanted to have larger breasts. Surely such things would become a hindrance on the battlefield, and he remembered hearing Manuela complaining about severe back pain. Unsure of what to say, he opted to say nothing and acted on instinct, leaning down to wrap his lips around one of Lysithea’s pert nipples.

Her back arched and her eyes shot open when her professor’s mouth earnestly came over her nipple. Lysithea watched the professor suck at her small breast, pulling off it with a satisfying pop before moving over to the other one and sucking on that too, flicking the nub back and forth. She hissed between her teeth, legs almost crossing with frustration, aching to feel friction.

“M-More…” she gasped out. Byleth hummed against her stomach, not quite muscular but not unfit either with a softness to it he had expected yet it breezed through them. He slipped his tongue into her bellybutton and Lysithea jolted again. His fingers came to the hem of her skirt and he pulled it down and over her legs.

_Huh. Thigh-high socks._ He did not expect that.

Byleth had never given much thought about what choice of legwear Lysithea was more inclined towards, but for some reason, the way her skin dipped into those navy-blue thigh-high socks with just the slightest indentation, it sent a bolt of fire straight to his cock. He could feel his trousers and armour becoming increasingly tight and he stifled a groan. Lysithea saw him hesitate.

“Professor… I-I know my body isn’t-” she began.

“No… my trousers. They are painfully tight,” he admitted boldly. Lysithea gasped and pushed herself up onto her elbows, forcing Byleth to sit back and she could see it quite clearly. The straining bulge beneath those black slacks and her body burned; _she_ had done that. Her body had done that to her professor. Tentatively, her hand reached out and she palm the front of his trousers. Byleth gasped.

“Ah! I’m sorry!”

Byleth shook his head. “It was not… unpleasant.”

Lysithea tried to read his face but it was vacant save for the red burning his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Her palm moved slowly, back and forth, over the front of Byleth’s trousers and he tilted his head to one side, exposing his neck as Lysithea’s gentle hand caressed him. He had touched himself sometimes but the feeling of someone else’s hand upon heightened the feelings of pleasure that were building within him.

“Your hand feels… good,” Byleth breathed out. Lysithea swallowed hard and she slowly brought her hands up to her professor’s belt buckle, nervous fingers fumbling uselessly with it. His hands came over hers and he calmed her, undoing the belt himself and then leaned back on his hands once more.

“I-I’ve never done this before…” she muttered. Her small hands reached under her professor’s underclothes and they wrapped around his cock. She suddenly realised what she was doing; her delicate hands were wrapping around her professor’s most intimate place, his _cock_, and she had never touched one before.

It was bigger than she expected though her one hand could almost wrap around it. It was also warmer than she thought possible; it was almost sticky with warmth. She flushed when she tried to tug it out of her professor’s smallclothes, and it caught on the waistband. She adjusted her palm and felt that it stuck to her professor’s dick slightly, sweaty and clammy.

“Ah… Professor… you’ve become like… this,” Lysithea breathed, letting her eyes drink in the sight of her professor. He was leaning back on his palms, shirt pushed up just slightly to reveal his abdomen and she could see a trail of coarse turquoise hair leading down to where his cock was standing upright, crowned with a bright red head.

“Hah… yes, I suppose it is because of you,” he muttered, voice quieter than usual. Lysithea’s gentle hands came to wrap around Byleth’s cock and she started to move her hands up and down, drawing the foreskin up and down with it. She was gentle and her grip was feather-light, barely there, until Byleth let out a sigh.

“You can be firmer,” he said. Lysithea swallowed hard and did has her professor instructed, taking a firmer hold with both of her hands and she pumped his cock a little quicker. She realised he was panting and breathing quickly now, chest falling and rising with laboured breaths and the sight sent shivers down her body.

A translucent bead seeped from the slit atop Byleth’s cock. Something in Lysithea stirred, and she let go with one hand and swept some stray hair behind her ear. She leaned down towards it and though Byleth made a surprised noise, a sharp intake of breath, he didn’t stop her small tongue from running over the small bead of pre-cum that formed.

Lysithea made a small face of displeasure. “If it is unpleasant, do not force yourself,” Byleth said.

Swallowing her pride, Lysithea shook her head and looked up at her professor with her large pink eyes. “I must do my best, professor… I give everything my all, don’t I?” With that, her lips closed over the tip and Byleth let out an abruptly short breath, staring down at the top of her white head of hair. He had _never_ even thought that such a thing was possible, let alone that it would feel as incredible as it did.

The feeling of Lysithea’s small wet mouth wrapped around the head of his cock felt like fire, burning hot and immeasurably good. He clutched at the bedsheets beneath his hands and watched her lick around the tip of his cock in circles. She was so eager in her studies and it seemed it didn’t stop at spells and books; ardently, she took more of his cock in and sucked with vigour, hollowing out her cheeks.

Byleth’s head tilted back; he had pleasured himself before, using his own dry hand, but now, with the feeling of Lysithea’s sweet saliva coating his cock and her head bobbing up and down, he cursed himself that he never thought to use lubrication before.

His hand shot to her head and he pulled tightly for a second. “Ah! Your… teeth,” he gasped out, surprised by the dull scrape against his length.

Lysithea popped off her professor’s cock with a slight ‘pop’ and saliva spilled down her lips and chin. She looked dishevelled; her face was stained a permanent pink, her eyes were half-lidded and almost couldn’t focus straight, and her pouting pink lips were swollen. Byleth cupped her chin with his other hand and ran his thumb over her lower lip.

“I wish to… be inside of you,” he breathed out. Lysithea whimpered into his hand and nodded, removing herself from his lap and she laid back on the bed, sliding her fingers into the strings of her lacy underwear, rolling them down her slim thighs. She bent her legs at the knees and slid the fabric from her body, letting it dangle off her ankle. She thought it might make her look more tempting to her professor.

Byleth stared at her, mesmerised by her body. He knew what sex was; he was naïve and inexperienced, not stupid. He had the basic understanding of what it was, after his father had explained it to him several years ago -the recollection caused a wave of discomfort to wash over him- but he had never indulged in the act himself. He was never short of an eager partner, plenty of women had propositioned him in the past, but he found the idea of the act so… _boring._

But gazing at Lysithea’s bare pale body, laid before him like one of the finest works of art he had ever seen, he wanted to paint her body with his kisses. He wanted to cover every inch of her small body with his lips, stain her with teeth-marks, and mark her as his own. A growl ripped past his lips as he loomed over her on all fours.

“Professor,” Lysithea whimpered, shyly spreading her legs, though she was grateful that his eyes were instead locked with hers and not watching her present herself so openly to him. One of his hands came to her cheek, caressing the skin with the back of his palm.

“I must admit, even I am… inexperienced in matters of sex,” Byleth began. He looked away, for the first time, appearing nervous and sheepish as the word crossed his lips. “However, I hope you will forgive me if I make any mistakes.”

Lysithea laughed quietly, smiling with her eyes, trying to comb the long blue locks from her professor’s face. “It is quite alright, Professor. We can learn together.”

Byleth nodded and took one of her thighs in his hand, pushing it back and he gazed down at her body, her most intimate place. He had never seen anything more tempting in his life; it was small and cute, rosy folds confined within and with a large thumb, he spread her open. Lysithea whimpered and wanted desperately to close her legs but fought the temptation, allowing her professor to take her in with his eyes.

Her pussy was divine; pink, sopping, tight folds and a small rosy nub poking out from a hood. Curiously, he brushed his thumb over the nub and Lysithea’s whole body jolted as if she’d been struck by lightning.

“_Ah! P-Professor!_” she cried out with her head thrown back against the bed. For a moment, an expression of concern washed over Byleth’s face.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, I… I don’t think so… it was just… very intense,” she breathed. She had never felt anything as strong as that before and whilst she was apprehensive, a part of her wanted to feel it again. She keened her hips up just slightly and her professor did not miss a beat, running his thumb over her clit once again. This time, prepared, Lysithea only trembled violently, clutching at her own chest.

“Does it feel good?”

“Y-Yes… I think so,” she replied hesitantly. Byleth’s calloused thumb rubbed over her clit in small circles and slowly, Lysithea’s hips rocked up in a rhythm to meet her professor’s hand. It was hot, like electricity, and it sent shocks through her periodically, causing her hips to spasm. One of her hands shot down and gripped her professor’s wrists.

“P-Please… I cannot wait any longer,” she asked.

“You wish for me to be inside of you?” Byleth asked, quirking his head to the side. Even in a moment as intimate as this, he was so forthright and… Lysithea had started to find that side of him endearing. She nodded.

“I do, yes… but please… there’s no need to be gentle with me… I… I think I can take it,” she said. Truthfully, she had never been with a man before, only having gone so far as a kiss. To say she was afraid was an understatement, but the thought of her professor, the man she had perhaps come to love so quickly, penetrating her made her stomach flutter. She was ready for it to be him.

“It will be your first time, will it not?”

“… y-yes but that doesn’t mean I wish for you to be so gentle with me,” she pouted. An amused smile came across Byleth’s face and Lysithea returned it, heart fluttering knowing that smile was directed at her.

Leaning back onto his knees, Byleth unclasped his heavy coat from his shoulders, letting it drape and pool around him on the bed. He unclasped his arm’s gauntlets, tugged off his shirt and slowly peeled his gloves off with his teeth. Lysithea watched, feeling a quaking within her, manifesting itself as an intense heat in her pussy and she groaned as her eyes roamed over his chest. He was toned but not overly muscled; his shoulders were broad, arms thick and waist narrow and she shivered thinking how small she would be in his arms.

He took a hold of the head of his cock in his hand guided it towards Lysithea’s entrance, rubbing the tip through her soft folds, liberally coating it with her slick juices. Beneath one of his strong hands, Byleth could feel her tremble beneath you.

“Are you afraid?”

“… no, not if it’s with you, professor,” Lysithea smiled. Byleth’s chest ached once more but it was in a more pleasant way. He imagined that if he perhaps had a beating heart, it would be racing right now. He shifted on his knees and guided the head of his cock between her folds and with a gentle push, he slipped the tip in. Lysithea tucked her chin to her chest and whimpered, as if in pain.

“Does it hurt? Would you like me to stop?” he asked calmly. Lysithea frowned and shook her head, trying to steady her rapid breathing.

“N-No… please, don’t worry about me and just… p-put it i-in,” she managed to gasp out. Byleth eased in more of his cock, watching with curious and intrigued eyes as his length slid inside. He was met with resistance and he couldn’t help but feel like he was hurting her. Lysithea’s eyebrows were knitted together and her lower lip was trembling. Once he was all the way inside, he hesitated and let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding.

“Is it… uncomfortable?” he broached once more.

Something inside Lysithea snapped. Her eyes went wide and she glared at her professor, shoving him off of her roughly. The sudden movement caused Byleth to cry out in surprise and fall onto his back on her bed. The small girl quickly climbed atop him and she straddled his lap, a leg on either side of his strong body. His hands stayed awkwardly at his sides, holding onto the bedsheets as her strong pink eyes stared him down, burning with frustration.

“I-I told you not to worry about me! I’m not some child who can’t take a b-bit of pain!” she protested. Lysithea took a firm hold of her professor’s cock and guided it back inside herself. The head breached her, and she grit her teeth, hissing loudly and whimpering; she was unprepared for just how big he would be from this new angle. The tip alone was enough to make her eyes water, but she could not lose face now; taking in a long breath, she braced herself with her hands flat on Byleth’s abdomen and lowered herself.

Approximately half-way she trembled, and her arms almost gave out. Alright, this was much more painful than she had anticipated. She dreaded to think about the pain that would come if she were to take him all the way. Her hands fidgeted awkwardly over the expanse of his stomach’s muscles and he regarded her with curious eyes. He could see the determination within her, adamant to stay strong but he could also see the quivering in her legs where she was probably throbbing with pain.

She sucked in a breath and then, without another word, dropped herself the rest of the way. Even Byleth cried out, a groan escaping his lips when he felt her impossibly tight warmth wrap around his cock. Lysithea threw her head back and almost screamed, hands flying to her mouth to cover the pained moan. Hot tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, wetting her white eyelashes and she tried to adjust to her professor’s size.

“Hah… are you… alright?” Byleth gasped out. It was the first time she had seen him without a solid composure; eyebrows furrowed, blush across his face and sweat dripping at his brow. Lysithea’s pert chest heaved and she leaned forward slightly, hands shifting so that they leaned across his pectorals instead.

“I said… stop worrying about me!” Lysithea’s hips immediately started to bounce and Byleth clutched tightly at the bedsheets beneath him. His head keened back, and he grit his teeth; this was better than he had imagined. He did not think that he could ever feel this good, the warmth around his cock like velvety fire.

Above him, Lysithea was trying her hardest to tolerate the pain though it was searing through her, almost like a knife in her gut. Perhaps she had been foolish and hadn’t taken the proper precautions in order to ensure that the fit would be less painful, but the end result would have been the same, she tried to convince herself. Her professor was inside of her. His cock was thrusting inside of her and she was taking him. Her head spun.

“_H-Hah_… professor… i-it feels good,” she breathed. Byleth didn’t respond and instead held onto the bedsheets, fingers still tangled into the fabric as Lysithea rode him. The pain was still prominent, but it had melded into more of a dull ache, pounding against her womb and rubbing against her insides. The entrance of her pussy was stretched wide and it still hurt there but the cock kissing at her cervix over and over distracted her from the sharp pain.

“Lysithea… this is…” he stammered out. For once, he was at a loss for words and Lysithea felt the familiar swell of smug pride on her chest; she had left her professor speechless. His composed expression was long gone, erased from his handsome face and instead, his eyes finally opened to reveal the hazy lust hiding within them.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” he breathed. Byleth’s hands finally came to move and he rested them on her hips, not really guiding her, but simply resting there, wanting to just feel her skin under his fingers. The white-haired girl trembled at his words and her hips started to gyrate in circles instead. The head of his deeply buried cock grazed over a spot inside of her and she clenched her knees together tightly.

“_Oh! Ah!_” she cried out, trying to angle her hips in such a way that she could brush over that area again and again. Lysithea found that sweet spot and biting her lip, she rocked her hips up against it until she was trembling uncontrollably. Byleth watched her, enthralled by her reactions; he had never seen her buck her hips so earnestly, chasing after something desperately.

One of his hands on her hips came to brush over her clit, following an instinctual impulse in his body. Lysithea arched her back painfully and her white hair cascaded down her back in a silvery crescent. His thumb circled over her clit and Lysithea’s legs trembled. She leaned forward, her head hanging and bangs covering her sweaty forehead as she started to bounce her hips again, trying to hide her embarrassed face from her professor.

“I-I… I can f-feel something c-coming,” she stuttered out. “Professor… _o-oh, ah… hah!_” 

Lysithea’s hips bounced and slammed down against his demandingly, hard and unforgiving, a sharp slap echoing through her room whilst Byleth’s s fingers circled and rolled over her clit. Her eyes were shut tight and saliva was rolling down her chin, dribbling onto his stomach but he didn’t care; he wanted to see more of that expression on her face. She was trying her absolute hardest to remain in control and show her professor she was not just a child, but a young woman able to handle almost anything he threw at her.

“Professor! _O-Oh, I… ah!_” Lysithea finally cried out.

Every muscle in her small body pulled tight, like the strings on a harp and she shuddered. Lysithea had never felt anything as strongly as this before and for a moment, she was afraid that it was some kind of powerful magic Byleth was unleashing upon her. Her pussy tightened and she could feel her walls inside clenching around her professor’s cock. Waves of pleasure washed over her and her body tensed up, burning with a fire more intense than anything she had ever felt.

Byleth grit his teeth and he suddenly felt his own release coming. His cock jumped and emptied itself inside of her, spurting out unexpectedly. The tell-tale signs he usually recognised when he was alone never came, and it was instead the tightening of Lysithea’s pussy that caused him to tip over the edge. Startled by the force of his own orgasm, a low rumble came from Byleth’s throat and his fingers sank into the delicate skin of Lysithea’s hip.

The small sorceress whimpered quietly, feeling the heat pooling deeply inside of her. She wasn’t sure if she was just imagining it but Lysithea swore she could feel her professor’s thick cum swirling around in her cervix and womb. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking.

Unable to hold herself up any longer, Lysithea collapsed atop her professor. His arms came around her and he held her to his chest protectively, a hand at the back of her head and the other resting on her lower-back. Occasionally, her legs quivered.

“Lysithea…”

Dread washed over Byleth. It was like a hot nauseating wave; he had lain with his student. Even without an understanding for human emotion, he was not without a moral compass and he sighed dejectedly. He knew that there would be severe repercussions for him and even Lysithea if anyone found out about what they had done. She would surely be exiled from her family and he would be thrown from the monastery. _His father_… what would his father think of him?

Byleth placed a hand on Lysithea’s shoulder. Their eyes met and instantly, she recognised that somber expression in those blank blue eyes. _Regret._

“Professor…” she began. Byleth shook his head and tapped her arm gently, allowing her to sit up and he slowly unsheathed himself from Lysithea’s dripping pussy. He could see from where she now sat on the bed that a puddle of his cum was leaking out from her and he buried a hand into his hair, pulling on it, frustrated. Such an overwhelming influx of human emotion left him reeling; intelligent as he was, he wasn’t sure how to deal with his feelings.

“I think it best… if I leave.”

“Professor…” Lysithea whimpered. She pulled the bedsheets up to cover her small sweaty body and reached out a hand, but she missed him. He stood and had his back to her, eyes locked on the ground. She couldn’t read him from here; ridiculously, she had begun to think that she could understand her professor’s expressions.

He redonned his armour and coat and tucked himself back into his trousers. Byleth’s gloved hand rested on the door handle of her room and without a backwards glance at the tearful girl, he left.

Lysithea crumbled, sobbing and weeping into her bedsheets. She could still smell her professor, his scent imbued into the white fabric.


	2. Embroiled in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Lysithea finally decide to discuss their feelings for one another after their illicit one night affair.

Lysithea was plagued by her emotions.

Heavy purple bags of sorrow clung under her eyes, dragging her usually bright and youthful expression down into a sullen frown. Her chin remained tucked to her chest and she often stared at the floor as she walked about the monastery. Her studies had also taken a nose-dive.

Byleth was not the only one to notice.

Hilda held tightly onto Lysithea’s hand, but she snatched it away immediately, spitting sharp words at the pink-haired pig-tailed girl who only frowned. She returned to Claude’s side and muttered in his ear. He scratched at his chin and watched Lysithea closely.

Consistently, and at least several times a day, dread washed over Byleth and his chest hurt painfully.

This did not feel akin to the nervousness he felt in Lysithea’s room the weeks before. It was far more painful, and he almost wanted to cut his chest open and rip the crest-stone heart out, hoping it would alleviate the pain he felt. Her morose expression, her unexpected silence and her empty eyes haunted him, and he found himself avoiding her expression more often than he wanted. Byleth wished to look upon Lysithea’s face and see her sweet smile, flushed cheeks and hear her eager participation in class but she sat at the back of the class, arms folded across the desk, barely taking a single note.

At night, he lay awake and stared at the ceiling, unable to think of what to do. He wanted to approach his father and ask him how to deal with such feelings but knew that bringing it up would cause Jeralt to ask who he felt these feelings for, and he could not risk losing his job for he knew he would never see Lysithea again. Yet, he could not bear to see her as she was now.

Byleth laid an arm over his eyes and tried to clear his head. He had never felt so disorientated and overwhelmed before; he could usually control what attacked him. His battles had always been physical. He had never before been besieged by an emotional assault. Usually a swift cut with a sword and a blast of magic solved most of his problems, however, he could not find an answer to the problems that kept him awake at night over the last few weeks and it tortured him. Wracked with guilt, Byleth could hardly stand to allow himself and Lysithea to continue like this any longer.

The following morning, he sought her out. He could not find her.

She did not come to his lecture. His heart ached.

Byleth dismissed class early and did not miss Claude’s calculating gaze as he powerfully threw the classroom doors open, cloak billowing with the intensity of his stride as he left.

Byleth’s fist came to knock -though he practically hammered- against Lysithea’s door. There was silence and then a soft click.

The door creaked open and tiny fingertips came around the corner. Byleth could see her pale face, dull pink eyes peering through the crack to see who it was. She met his thunderous expression and squeaked.

“P-Profess-”

Byleth shoved his arm in the door, effectively blocking Lysithea from slamming it in his face if he wanted to. He stared determinedly down at her but spoke calmly despite the fury on his face. “Please. Have tea with me.”

Lysithea practically whimpered at her professor’s request. Her fingers, bitten down dangerously short and with raw red skin surrounding the nailbed clung onto the edge of the door. She swallowed. “I-I… I’m not sure if-”

“Please.”

“… alright.”

Byleth removed his arm from the door and Lysithea opened it fully. Her uniform was crinkled; it looked like she had been sleeping in it throughout the morning and her one sock was rolled down lower than the other. Her expression was still haggard, and she would not meet his eyes. The painful spasming in Byleth’s chest intensified and he held back a groan.

Guiding the way to the gazebo, Lysithea followed behind, though she left considerable distance between herself and her professor.

The turquoise-haired man drew the chair out and gestured for Lysithea to sit. She hesitated and then nodded her thanks, silently taking her professor’s offer as he gently pushed the seat beneath her, and he took his own opposite.

Silence fell, deafening between them.

The wind itself would not whisper and all was still between student and professor under the sheltered roof of the rotunda. The pink buds had long bloomed into blossoms, sprinkled with golden pollen and dew, twisting around the pillars that sheltered the apprehensive illicit couple.

“Thank you for joining me.”

“Please, Professor… let us not pretend what happened did not happen.”

Byleth sighed and he gripped the tablecloth, nodding slowly. “I understand.”

The professor took the teapot and poured Lysithea a cup and then filled his own. He reached for a sugar-topped biscuit and whilst he did not have a sweet-tooth himself, he had found himself indulging in sugary treats the more depressed he felt. He heard it was a common thing; to satisfy one’s desperation for ‘happiness’ by spoiling one’s self with sweet things. Day by day, he learned more about human emotions.

“Please, help yourself,” Byleth said, gesturing to the tower of cakes in the centre of the table. Lysithea kept her head low and her eyes trained on her lap, not reaching for the treats nor her tea.

“I am not hungry.”

“Lysithea, you have not eaten all day.”

“I said I’m not hungry.”

He sipped his tea and it scalded his tongue. The boiling liquid rolled down his throat and he thought he might burn his oesophagus; perhaps he deserved it.

“We should discuss things,” he ventured.

“Should we? Or will you continue to avoid me and ignore what we did?” Lysithea spat, devoid of her usually childish demeanour.

“I have not been avoiding you, please do not think so.”

“It feels like it. You don’t call on me in class, you don’t talk to me…” Lysithea’s lower lip trembled and she clutched at her wrinkled skirt with her small hands. “You don’t even look at me anymore.”

“It is because-”

“Please don’t make excuses, professor,” she said solemnly, shaking her head. Lysithea lifted her chin, eyes watering and shimmering with tears. Her lower lip was trembling uncontrollably and around her lips were red and puffy where she had been biting incessantly to try and hold back her crying. “Please don’t treat me as even more of a child.”

“I do not think of you as a child.”

Hot tears rolled over Lysithea’s cheeks and she wailed helplessly. “Please don't lie to me, Professor! It hurts enough that you cannot even look at me any longer; please do not lie to me too.”

Byleth’s fingers tore through the tablecloth. His chest staggered and crest-stone heart throbbed painfully. He clutched over his heart, gritting his teeth. Her sobbing face cut through him sharper than any blade ever could; her pink eyes streamed an endless river of anguished tears down her face, eyebrows knotted upwards in pain and her puffy red lips were pulled downwards as she cried before him.

“I cannot…” he huffed. Lysithea continued to cry before him and Byleth almost hunched over the table in pain, gauntleted fingers scratching harshly against his chest-plate.

“I am convinced you have still put a spell on me,” he manged to get out. Lysithea still hiccupped and cried but fell quiet, leaving the tears-tracks down her face. They clung to her rounded chin and tumbled into her lap, staining her uniform.

“I am wholeheartedly convinced that you are a far more powerful girl than you believe yourself to be. This spell you have placed upon me…” Byleth laughed and shook his head, straightening himself back up against the chair. “It is the most powerful magic I have ever felt.”

Lysithea said nothing.

“I cannot bear to look at you because my chest aches. I cannot bear to call upon you during lectures for the sound of your voice haunts me like a song I ache to hear but cannot remember the melody. I cannot bear to speak with you for… for I am a coward.”

With shaking hands, Lysithea wiped her face with the back of her sleeve. Byleth took in a deep breath.

“I am a coward for what I have done to you… to take something so precious from you, I cannot even put into words how sorry and repentant I am. I overstepped my boundaries, as a dutiful professor and as your friend and for that, I am sorry. I am also sorry for how I treated you in the aftermath.” Byleth swallowed over the lump in his throat. “I should not have left you alone.

“To me… you are just a girl. But one of the most mature, powerful, intelligent… a-and beautiful girls I have ever had the honour of encountering. I do not think my life at this monastery would be the same were it not for you. I do not think that I would enjoy lecturing our class without you for, in all honesty, I tire of Raphael’s ludicrous answers.” Byleth attempted a smile and Lysithea huffed a puff of breath through her nostrils, still despondent and avoiding her professor’s gaze.

“Lysithea,” Byleth called. He stretched his hand out across the table and extended it to wards her. Lysithea stared at it and did not move.

“I cannot undo what has been done… though if I had the chance, I would do it again.”

Her breath hitched in her throat and she shuddered. “You would…?”

“I would do it all over again. In a heartbeat.” He paused. “Forgive my poor choice of words.”

A timid smile found its way across Lysithea’s face and slowly, shakily, she laid her hand into her professor’s waiting palm. “I would have you in my arms again and for the rest of time if the Goddess permitted it. I would only change how our time together ended… I would stay longer.”

Bittersweet was the most apt way of describing how Lysithea felt; she bubbled with happiness, elated that her professor did not regret the night they spent together and would have her again. Yet, she broiled with sadness, still pained by his actions and apprehensive of their future.

“I… I am glad to hear that,” was all Lysithea could manage. Byleth stared at where their hands met, and he drew his hand back. For a moment, Lysithea’s heart sank but she saw him undo his gauntlet and bite off his glove. He laid his hand flat again and she allowed her palm to fall against his bare one, skin on skin. He was unnaturally warm.

“I cannot begin to ask you forgive me for the way I have behaved. It was unbefitting of a professor; it was unbefitting of a man… I should have known better, and yet, I do not. This is the first time I have ever felt this way about anything. Not even blood on my blade makes my heart race the way the smile on your face does.”

Lysithea’s cheeks flared scarlet and she moved to retract her hand and hide her face but Byleth was quick and his nimble calloused fingers caught her wrist.

“Don’t say such things!” she cried out, covering her face with her free hand. Byleth shook his head.

“You asked me not to lie. I strongly believe you have cast a spell on me. When we were in your room last, you told me that the aching in my chest was just nervousness and I believe you are correct. However, seeing your saddened expression and acknowledging the pain I have put you through,” Byleth clutched at the front of his chest and his fingers scratched over the steel again. “It has caused me the greatest pain I have ever felt.

“Those around me have called me the Ashen Demon for my emotionlessness; the way I can cut through others without a shred of remorse, fear or hesitation. In truth, I have never felt much inside me; it was easy to cut through someone when gold lined my pocket. But now, when there are those around me whose lives I value more than my own… I find that I am plagued by emotions I have never felt before. I am… unable to comprehend them.”

“You don’t have… feelings, professor?”

He shook his head slowly. “I am acquainted with more ‘physical feelings’ if that is what you call them; things like hunger, cold, loneliness, and other such emotions. But more… abstract concepts such as sadness, frustration and even happiness are, admittedly, foreign to me.”

Lysithea quirked her head to the side. “You never felt happiness before?”

Byleth laughed. “I thought I had… I thought that gold in my pockets and food in my belly was happiness. But my students… they bring me true happiness.”

The professor lowered his gaze to his teacup and he stared at his own reflection. For a moment, he could barely recognise himself; his eyes were half-lidded with a frown and they were brimming with an honesty he had never seen in own empty eyes before. Revealing his truest and innermost thoughts to another was cathartic and slowly, he could feel the ache relieving not only from his chest, but from his shoulders and his mind – perhaps even his soul.

“All of you, every student at this school brings me happiness; the smile on your faces, the determination in your eyes, the anger in your bared teeth in battle… I know that you all are alive. For the first time ever, I also feel that way.”

The white-haired girl’s hand clasped tightly around her professor’s and she squeezed. “This entire time… you have been without feelings.”

“Yes… I thought I knew what ‘feeling’ was… until I came here and met everyone. Until I met _you._”

Lysithea stuttered. “M-Me?”

Byleth tilted his head. “Of course. You think I would lay with anyone just because I do not feel?”

She hesitated and tried to find the correct words; in all honesty, _yes,Love…_”

Byleth repeated the word to himself and it was when she was watching his contemplative expression that she realised the gravity of their conversation. Here they were, student and teacher, discussing matters of love – all whilst she was still under the age. Here her professor was, usually so stoic and expressionless, embroiled with the confusion of love for the first time. Her heart soared proudly knowing that it was because of her.

“Professor… we are… student and teacher. Such things are… forbidden,” Lysithea almost whispered, using a hand to shield her mouth somewhat.

Byleth hummed again, cupping his chin and stroking it, thinking. “Yes, I understand that… I also realise how unprepared I was since I do not even have a ring to propose to you with.”

The lack of concern he gave for his words made Lysithea gasp and flustered; she waved her hands in front of her professor’s face, leaning over the table as if she were trying to cover his mouth. “P-Propose?! Professor! You are more concerned with the lack of a ring than our current positions?!”

He took one of her flailing hands and brought the back of her knuckle to his lips. She immediately ceased her wild movements and shuddered feeling his chapped lips connect with her hand. “I wish to be with you. If you will have me, of course.”

“I… can I honestly answer that now? I do not even know how much time I have left to spend with you.”

“It does not matter to me how long we have, only that we share every moment we possibly can with one another.”

“I… I want to say yes.”

Byleth smiled and kissed the back of Lysithea’s hand once again. “I will ask you again when you are of age and with a ring… I hope that you will say yes again at that time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very brief conclusion chapter! I like to think that the pair love one another very much and that they will be together and find a cure and have wonderful children, born with no Crests and they will be happy regardless.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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